Burning Bridges Book Novels & Stories

I speak first, breaking the silence, "Why do you have gasoline in your bag?" By now the fire had died, only spirals of smoke curled up. "I was on my way to burn bridges." "What?" I ask, stunned. "What are you burning bridges for?" One look at my face has his lips twitching. "Not those kinds of bridges. They're more metaphorical." He heads down to a corner of the room, grabbing a brush. He gathers the burnt remains, throwing them into the trash.

He hummed kissing me all the way up to my jaw as I made incoherent sounds at the back of my throat. "I'm burning." I let out as I grabbed his cheeks between both of my hands and made him look at me. Maybe that way, he'll see how miserable and agitated I was. I felt like my body was no longer mine. It felt so new and it wanted more than just simple touches and kisses. "My body is burning for you Caesar. Please do anything, I don't care. Take care of it, I completely trust you." He placed a small kiss on my lips and then went back to looking at me in admiration.

he says and I shake my head, refusing his threats. “Or…” he says and takes his hands completely off of me. He opens the book and flip through slowly, his fingers teasing the edge of the white pages the way I wish he would tease my hard nipples. I press my legs together, looking for a way to keep down my lust and the crazy thoughts as a drop of juice slides out of my pussy lips into the lady panties I have on. “Or…” he says again and runs his finger down the page of my last writing. Tomorrow morning is Christmas morning.

If she saw me zoning out one more time, she’d definitely start bugging me. We kept walking, and Veronica was her usual chatty self, typical Veronica, always rambling about milk tea and romance novels. She can stay up all night reading those love stories, but when it comes to our class textbooks? She’s already yawning by the first page. We were already inside the milk tea shop, I had my drink in hand, but Veronica was still at the counter, arguing with the server about the quality of the sugar used. A few more minutes passed before she finally wrapped things up and marched straight over to the table where I was sitting.

His fingers, rough with calluses, traced paths across my skin repeatedly, sending delightful shivers through me. I couldn't help but let out a few soft moans. His heavy breathing intensified, and, appearing emboldened, his hand continued its exploration lower down my body. His low, husky voice resonated in my ear, laden with a seductive quality, as he asked, "Is it alright if I continue, Cynthia?" I lowered my gaze in a flush of shyness, a gesture that served as my implicit consent. William could no longer suppress the overwhelming passion he felt. He immediately pulled me into his embrace.

END OF FLASHBACK Mrs Young, with the great eagle she had never gave up easily. The thought of Taylor disobeying her wishes made her even more furious. She gave out a heavily sigh, and walked into her two sons company, lost in her thoughts thinking of ways not to lose such influential business partners, It was almost like gambling with her life when ever she meant business.

But knowing its name had done nothing to prepare her for standing inside it, with the heat of it brushing her skin and the vision of it swallowing the horizon. Farther out, spanning the deeper fissures where magma burned brightest, chain bridges stretched from one shelf of stone to another, some narrow and swaying, others broader, reinforced with iron plates hammered into the links and suspended over rivers of fire that moved slow enough to look almost deliberate. The bridges seemed impossibly fragile against the scale of the landscape, black lines cast over open flame. And yet demons crossed them constantly. Smiths bearing tongs. Armourers dragging carts. Lesser demons carrying bundles of s

, the pastor announces and Aiden doesn't make a move, Laura kiss him deeply and Tareem and Tash stands before blocking me from catching him kiss. I grab my purse and walk out of the church before I lose my head. I take a deep breath and walk to the car, the guard opens the door and I enter. I give the driver the spot to drop me at. I get down from the car and I walk towards the already destroyed bridge and I smile. He really did burn down the bridge. I chuckle. The bridge is burnt and one need a helicopter to cross over to the other side. "Taet Darc", I hear Tash's voice from behind me.

“Remember the night on the rooftop? Black roses under the stars? You said I burned my bridges when I sent Dante that video.” The metal begins to sag. “I didn’t burn my bridges, Gavriil. I burned my mercy.” The circle droops, drips, then crashes inward with a deafening clang. Superheated air rolls out, carrying the scent of scorched metal and fear. I step through the smoking hole, pistol raised. The panic room is dim, of course, luxurious. Leather chairs.